


A Force To Be Reckoned With

by froochies (darling_dontworry)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Crushes, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Rowing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_dontworry/pseuds/froochies
Summary: After suffering a couple of bad losses during the last rowing season and taking an extended break from rowing, Nishinoya comes back to row for the Karasuno Rowing Club, only to encounter a new rower who jumpstarts his passion for the sport.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26
Collections: Haikyuu Olympics Bang





	A Force To Be Reckoned With

**Author's Note:**

> I got to collab with the lovely [Noël](https://yoriiarts.carrd.co/#) for for more AsaNoya goodness, this time in the world of rowing! Check out her work at the end of the story. 
> 
> A huge thank you to the [Haikyuu!! Olympics Bang](https://olympicsbang.tumblr.com/) for the opportunity to write about our boys in a different sport and to [Lee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/octocelot/pseuds/wasabi) for beta-ing, you are literally the best <3

Nishinoya doesn’t know if he’s been this uncomfortable in a while. Sure, after taking an unannounced two-month European vacation from the Karasuno Rowing Club, he knew his return to Japan might incite some awkward conversations with management, and even with some teammates. But Nishinoya was wholly unprepared to run into the head coach when he finally got his ass back to their training center in Osaka. 

“So,” Ukai says, glowering at him now from behind a mahogany desk. Nishinoya had never seen Ukai angry, the man himself bearing signs of his rebellious past – streaks of grown-out highlights in long brown hair, holes in his ears. But a sense of foreboding runs through Nishinoya’s veins, cold as ice, as he sits in a cushy blue chair, the windows in Ukai’s office overlooking the canal slightly fogged up with heated breath. Ukai looks just a smidge frustrated with him (and probably rightly so).

“So,” Nishinoya repeats, putting on what he hopes is a placating smile. 

“You’re back,” Ukai grunts. 

“Yes.” 

“Did you have a good trip?” 

“I did.” 

“Clear your head?” 

“I think so.” 

Ukai pauses at this, his eyes narrowing very slightly at the non-committal response. “Are you going to finish up the summer with us?” 

“I’m... planning on it,” Nishinoya says slowly. “Starting next week.” 

“Fine. Tanaka has been maintaining your scull. I have a meeting in Tokyo this weekend about the Olympics –” 

“The what, now?” Nishinoya interjects. 

“The Olympics, Nishinoya,” Ukai tuts. “I mean to say you’re free to come by to use the facilities during that time to refamiliarize yourself with… your equipment.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” 

“You can go now. Some of the boys are probably down in the locker rooms if you want to catch up with them.” 

“ _ Thank you _ .” 

Nishinoya gets up as quickly as possible without running. He jumps down the stairs, through the lobby, and down another set of stairs to put as much distance between him and Ukai as possible before slowing down to mull over what has just happened. 

Ukai hadn’t ever been super strict with the team, but Nishinoya isn’t surprised by Ukai wanting to check in, though he’d wanted to avoid it with all his heart. Hell, he hadn’t even planned on stopping by the training center today, but Nishinoya couldn’t help it. Nobody, not even Tanaka, knew he’d be back now, and after getting off the plane at Kansai and taking a quick shower at his apartment, he headed straight for the training center to see if he could catch his teammates following their afternoon session. Passing through the low-lit hallway that leads to the locker rooms, Nishinoya feels his palms start to sweat and a sudden swoop in his stomach. 

Shoot, why does he feel like this? Nishinoya sits down and puts his head in his hands on a bench right in front of the entrance to the locker room. Sure, he’d basically given up a big chunk of summer training to travel and think his whole career over, but it isn’t like he  _ wanted _ to do it. 

At just over five feet, Nishinoya knew that his rowing career would not be easy. He’d done everything he could to compete with the top rowers in his event, and dammit if he hadn’t done pretty well for himself. Up until the Master’s Regatta last spring, that is. He’d placed in the top three in the nation as the single scull regatta, which is a win by many standards. But for Nishinoya, it doesn’t feel nearly enough. He wants first. He wants the world champs. The Olympics seem like such a faraway dream compared to those goals. 

Unless… 

No. He can’t think of that now. Nishinoya just wants to be officially  _ back _ first. So he stands up, walks up to the double-door of the locker room, inhales the faint odor of wet tile, and pushes open the doors to the locker room. He hears the sounds of water running and laughter and is unable to hide the grin that breaks out on his face, his excitement to see everyone again squashing his recent nerves to nothing. 

“I’M BAAAACK,” Nishinoya shouts, looking around for someone,  _ anyone. _

The response is immediate, and Nishinoya braces himself when he sees Sugawara, Tanaka, and Hinata running through a column of lockers and straight for him. 

“NOYA YOU–”

“NOYA-SAN!” 

“FINALLY, NISHI–” 

Nishinoya feels the wind knocked out of him as the three bury in him a group hug. He swats away what feels like a few playful punches to his gut, trying his hardest to push them all away, but he is quickly wrestled into a headlock by Tanaka. 

“Noya-san!” Tanaka shouts above him, face broken out in a huge smile. “You bastard! You didn’t tell us you were back.” 

“Yeah, what the heck?” Sugawara adds, leaning down in front of him to pinch Nishinoya’s nose, to which Nishinoya barks out a laugh. “You sneaky sneak. We would’ve planned something to celebrate! Right, Dai?” 

“Of course,” a deeper voice agrees from behind Sugwara. Nishinoya looks up, still struggling under Tanaka’s playful grasp to see Daichi and Kageyama hanging back from the group surrounding him. “How was your trip Nishinoya?” 

“Ah, you know,” Nishinoya grins from beneath Tanaka’s arm. “I’d love to tell you about it over a beer. Anyone up for drinks now?” 

“Sure, sure,” Tanaka says, releasing him and shoving him away with another laugh. “Just gotta grab a shower and we’ll be on our way.” 

“Of course!” 

Hinata races Kageyama to the showers and Daichi follows, yelling after them to slow down. Nishinoya shakes his head in amusement, comforted that the team hasn’t changed at all since he left. 

Except for one thing. As Nishinoya’s eyes sweep over the rest of the locker rooms, he spots a person he hasn’t seen before sitting on a bench in the corner. Before Tanaka can walk away, Nishinoya nudges him on the shoulder. 

“Who is that?” 

Tanaka looks in the same direction as Nishinoya. “Wow, I can’t believe you don’t know. You really went off the grid, huh? No emails, no team news, nothing.” 

“Shut up, now tell me or I’m gonna walk over there and ask him myself.” 

“Relax, skippy. That’s Azumane Asahi. I think I told you about this rower who was a little older than we are and was sweeping some amateur regattas during the spring?” 

“I think I remember.” 

“That’s him,” Tanaka says with a broad smile. “Ukai made him an offer to join the club after you went on leave and he’s been here almost a month now. Runs in a single scull most of the time.” 

“Really?” Nishinoya says, lifting his chin and feeling an eyebrow cock up in curiosity. “Does he know that he’s gonna have to fight me for the singles spot?” 

Tanaka laughs again. “First of all, it’s not a competition dude, you know that we’re on the same team, right? And second, I am one-hundo percent sure he is well aware of you.” 

“Hm. Well maybe I’ll invite him to a morning training session.” He puffs himself up and puts his hands on his hips, and Tanaka scoffs. 

“You’re so predictable.” 

Nishinoya only waggles his eyebrows at his friend before approaching the bench where Azumane is wiping himself down with a hand towel while looking at something on his phone. 

Up close, Nishinoya thinks that he really looks the part of the rower. He’s wearing some normal training dri-fit training gear, and even sitting down, he seems tall, at least six feet. Nishinoya also notes that his arms and legs look powerful, ligaments of taut muscle apparent under smooth, tanned skin. As he comes to a stop in front of the lockers, the guy looks up from his phone.

Nishinoya feels like he’s been hit by lightning when he takes in soft brown eyes and a small nervous smile, all framed by thick, chocolate-brown hair at shoulder-length. 

_ Cute,  _ he thinks briefly before the guy opens his mouth and sticks out a large hand. 

“Uh, hey, I’m –” 

“Azumane Asahi,” Nishinoya cuts him off. Azumane looks surprised at this, his mouth slightly agape in disbelief as Nishinoya wrings his hand enthusiastically. “Sorry, I just asked my buddy about you, I couldn’t help it.” 

“No problem,” Azumane says with a wobbly-looking smile. “Please, call me Asahi.” 

“Okay, Asahi! I’m –” 

“Nishinoya Yuu.” Asahi smiles sheepishly at Nishinoya’s own raised eyebrows, seemingly happy to take part in the joke too. When they release each other, he continues, almost breathlessly, “I  _ definitely _ know you.” 

“Who doesn’t?” Nishinoya says easily. Asahi gives a shaky laugh at this.

“Very true. There aren’t many rowers like you in this sport.” 

“That’s a nice way of pointing out my height.” 

Nishinoya grins, unable to help making jokes at his own expense when he talks with other people in the sport. It usually gets a laugh out of them, which he likes. But that is not Asahi’s reaction at all. In fact, the comment makes Asahi’s face turn paper white and he drops his phone as if he’d said something terrible. 

Crap. The guy is nervous. But there’s something endearing about it that has Nishinoya breaking out in laughter. 

“Asahi-san, that was a joke,” Nishinoya wheezes, doubled-over. He glances back at Tanaka, who is gawking at them from the same spot he’d left him, clearly astonished by the shift in their polite greeting. Asahi breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Oh my god,” Asahi says, clutching his heart, his dropped phone resting on a knee. “You are as scary as they say.” 

“Scary? They?” Nishinoya says, tilting his head. 

“Oh. Just… people,” Asahi says. Nishinoya notices a slight flush in Asahi’s face when he says it.

“I’m sorry,” Nishinoya says, flicking away a tear that’s pricked the corner of his eye. “Seriously, I just wanted to come over and say hi, welcome to Osaka, all that.” 

“I should be saying the same thing to you, right?” Asahi crooks an eyebrow at Nishinoya. 

“True, I actually just got back today. We’re going out for drinks to celebrate my long-awaited return. Do you want to join?” 

“I really would… but I have some stuff to take care of. Rain check?” Asahi stands up then, and  _ holy crap _ he really is tall. Nishinoya gulps, feeling his face get hot, and he almost forgets to speak. 

“Sure,” he says quickly, rearranging his face into what he hopes is a neutral one. He steps aside to let Asahi get to his locker and retrieve a towel. Once Asahi has disappeared behind the tiled barrier to the showers, Tanaka sidles up next to Nishinoya with a little smirk on his face.

“You alright?” Tanaka says, poking Nishinoya in the ribs.

“Huh? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You look all… red.” 

“Hah?” Nishinoya says, turning to glare at his friend. Tanaka simply scoffs before clapping Nishinoya on the back. 

“Geez, calm down. So Asahi’s a no-go on the drinks?” 

“No, he said he has stuff to do.” 

“Shame. I wanted to see you get drunk and like… try to lick his abs or something.” 

Before Tanaka can run away, Nishinoya lands a hard punch to his shoulder, reducing him to a combined fit of deep guffaws and pained wheezing. 

*

Nishinoya wakes very early the next morning. He had been out till 2am with his teammates, and, after collapsing in the bed of his apartment fully clothed, he had woken a mere few hours later. Unsure of whether the time difference or pure excitement is keeping him awake, Nishinoya decides that this is a good opportunity to get some rowing in without anyone making a big deal of it. He slips out with his bike and heads to the training center. 

The facility is quiet and dark. Nishinoya shivers in the cold of the dewy morning, the smell of mossy water in his lungs as he unlocks and rolls open the large doors to the boathouse. He takes a moment to run hands over his neglected scull, still in great condition thanks to his best friend. Lifting it out of the sling, he balances the boat carefully on one shoulder, grips a couple of oars in his other hand, and sets out for the dock. The oars clatter loudly as he drops them on the plastic surface of the dingy, and he leans over to place the boat almost reverently in the water. 

The next steps are practiced, methodical. Nishinoya shucks his joggers, choosing to leave his sweatshirt on while he works out. Then, he clips in his oars, balances himself as he steps into the scull, sits down in the moving seat, and pushes off. A few minutes of adjusting his boots, and he’s good to go. 

Without further preamble, Nishinoya starts rowing at an easy pace, simply travelling up the canal with no destination or distance in mind.  It’s soothing to start his day like this. The gentle glide of the boat over water, the way its surface ripples and breaks as the helm cuts through the canal. The grip handles feel smooth to the touch, and as Nishinoya slides up the rigging to the catch, he dips the oars in the water and drives his legs back in one smooth motion. Each slice through the surface of the placid water, each drive of his legs until they buzz pleasantly with use feels good, satisfying.

Nishinoya hadn’t touched a scull since he left Japan, choosing to lift weights or run on a treadmill at the random hotel gym and even get on an erg every once in a while when he could.  He’d traveled across the Italian countryside, visited Turkey, trekked some trails in Switzerland. Japanese nature is quaint and mountainous and homely, but everything outside his home country just feels so much bigger somehow. It felt good connecting with something so wondrous and sinuous and alive. 

But  as much as he needed to clear his head, Nishinoya had also missed being here, in a single, on the water. He’d been home for less than 24 hours now and seen his friends, but this moment feels like an altogether different kind of homecoming. 

Nishinoya rows down all the way to the buoys and then back, but as he passes the training center and the boathouse, he spies a large figure bringing another single out to the dock. He circles back quickly. 

“Asahi-san!” Nishinoya calls, recognizing his new team member as he draws closer. Asahi looks up and waves at him, his face scrunched in a pained smile, almost like he’s blinded by a bright light. Nishinoya comes to a stop a few feet away from the scull while Asahi clicks in one of his oars. 

“Do you usually show up this early too?” Asahi calls out, turning his head to look at Nishinoya, who simply shrugs in response. 

“Sometimes. I couldn’t sleep so I came out here to get my bearings. It’s my first time on the water since I got back to Japan actually.” 

“Oh! I can wait for you to –”

Nishinoya barks out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous! Just get in here and practice with me.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, why not? I wanna see what you’ve got up your sleeve anyways.” 

Asahi smiles tightly, like he’s nervous, but Nishinoya chooses to overlook this. So far, interacting with Asahi has felt like walking on eggshells, but people like him had never intimidated Nishinoya at all. They’ve got to get along right? What better time than now? 

“So what’s your usual thing when you come out here?” Nishinoya asks, balancing his oar handles on his lap and studying Asahi’s careful movements as he steps into his scull, pushes off the dock, and starts to strap in. 

“I’ll usually probably start off easy and then try to work up to a steady rate for a half hour or so.” Asahi shoots him a quick look and a shrug. “Maybe more if I feel up to it.” 

“Oh, that’s actually pretty quick.”

“Yeah, I try not to get in a boat too much. It hurts my back, to be honest.” 

“I see. So you do more stuff in the gym?” 

“Yeah. I’ll probably come back after lunchtime to get on erg or something.” 

Nishinoya nods, then glances back out at the still water. There’s a pause in the conversation. He feels like his mind is going a million miles a minute, but Nishinoya tells himself to zip it and let Asahi breathe for a moment. The guy still looks anxious as he sits up and casts a glance around them to observe the conditions. Or perhaps just to look away from Nishinoya. 

“Well, do you –” Nishinoya starts, but Asahi cuts him off. 

“Have you warmed up?” The words come out quickly and loudly, and Asahi looks like he’s been struggling to talk at all. Nishinoya chuckles at this. 

“Yeah, just a little bit,” he answers Asahi. “I could definitely still go for a couple of laps.” 

“Okay. Then… we race.” Asahi’s face breaks into this sly little smirk, which causes a little swoop in Nishinoya’s stomach. He ignores the feeling, tries to crush it down deep as he whips his head around to stare at Asahi and waggle his eyebrows. 

“Oh hell yeah,” Nishinoya says, baring his teeth. “Gotta see what my competition is like!” 

“Competit –” Asahi’s sneaky expression disappears quickly as he chokes on the last syllable, causing Nishinoya to snicker. “We’re on the same team!” 

“In a regatta, everyone outside of my boat is my mortal enemy.” 

“Fair point. Alright, you’re on.” 

Nishinoya nods and they both turn their boats so the helm faces east. He catches a glimpse of Asahi’s bright, crinkled eyes, then starts to row up the channel, where the sun is starting to appear over the horizon. 

*

After an hour of warm-ups, racing, and trash talking (mostly on Nishinoya’s part), the two rowers find themselves sprawled out on the dock panting and tired, tethered sculls bobbing on the water. The sun is now halfway above the sky, coloring everything in a grey and purple hue. Birds call out from the muggy smog of the city. Nishinoya doesn’t know what time it is, but he’s too wiped to slip his phone out of the pocket of his dri-fit leggings. 

He takes a deep breath, tilting his head to the left to look at Asahi, who is breathing deeply and with his eyes closed. They hadn’t kept track of how many wins and losses they each had, but Nishinoya had been impressed with Asahi’s speed and stamina on the water. It’s no surprise as to why Ukai picked him up to be part of the team after Nishinoya left. 

“You are really awesome, Asahi-san,” Nishinoya says. 

“And you’re really blunt, aren’t you?” Asahi says. He returns Nishinoya’s gaze with his own sheepish smile. 

Nishinoya shrugs. “I’ve always just found it easier to say what’s on my mind.” 

“That makes sense. Can I be honest then, Nishinoya-san?” 

“Mm?” Nishinoya feels his curiosity pique with the question and he tries to catch Asahi’s eyes, but Asahi stares resolutely at the sky, his hands folded just over his diaphragm as it rises and falls in steady, even breaths. 

“I joined the team because of you,” Asahi says matter-of-factly. There’s a pause during which Nishinoya feels his mouth drop open. 

“What? Really?” 

Asahi nods, still looking upwards. “You’re the reason I started taking rowing seriously, anyways,” he continues. “I rowed for fun when I was in high school and kept up with it in college. And then I saw you in Kanagawa for the All Japan Regatta two years ago.” 

Nishinoya remembers this day, of course. It was the first regatta he’d ever taken first in for his event. A lot of people doubted he’d ever make it to the top ten since his strokes per minute had been so high, but he was able to keep up with the larger rowers. That win had led to a lot of opportunities, including the club’s move from Miyagi to Osaka. 

“You were just… such a force to be reckoned with,” Asahi says. Nishinoya feels stunned at the gentle, almost adoring tone with which he continues to speak. “Forgive me for saying, but your height really had a lot to do with that. You didn’t care that you were small or that your rate was much higher than everyone else. You  _ flew _ across the canal. It was really cool.” 

Nishinoya may be imagining the flush he sees on Asahi’s face in the low light, but he remains silent as Asahi forges ahead. 

“So when I got the offer from Ukai, I jumped at the chance to work with you. And, of course, I was disappointed when I got here and heard you were on an extended vacation.” 

It’s Nishinoya’s turn to blush. “Yeah,” he breathes, turning his head skyward with his heart beating rapidly. “That.” 

“I kind of got a feeling that it might become permanent,” Asahi says. “But when I asked the other guys about you, they were sure you wouldn’t be gone forever.” 

Nishinoya feels himself smile at this. “I mean. Can I be honest, too?” he says. 

“Of course.” 

“I wasn’t so sure about coming back.”

Asahi hums deeply at this. The sound is smooth and velvety and makes Nishinoya’s ears tingle pleasantly. He could stay here and be honest with Asahi for a long while and be completely happy with it. 

“But you’re here now,” Asahi says. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m glad. I think I can learn a lot from you, so let’s do our best to improve together, okay?” 

Nishinoya can’t help but tilt his head back and stare at Asahi in wonder. This time, Asahi looks back at him with this relaxed smile, like he knows everything is going to work out as planned. He wonders how Asahi could be so sure, and doesn’t know how to respond. He nods instead. 

“Anyways, thanks for the workout,” Asahi says. He heaves himself up to sitting with a little grunt and stretches his arms up in the air, the muscles on his back flexing. “If you’re around later for training, would you want to get dinner after or something?” 

Nishinoya sits up, staring at Asahi’s arms and unable to make his voice work for some reason. He nods again and watches silently as Asahi unscrews his oars and hoists his scull out of the water. 

“Alright,” Asahi says, adjusting the boat on his shoulders and looking down at where Nishinoya is still sitting and staring. “See you in there then.” 

Once Asahi is out of sight, Nishinoya lies back and pulls his forearm to rest over his eyes. He can’t tell if he’s excited or turned on or crushing hard or if this is all adrenaline from being back out on the water, but he feels like his whole body is vibrating with overstimulated nerves. 

He doesn’t have time to think about it, however, when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket one, two, three, four times in quick succession. With a groan, Noya pushes his fingers into the pocket of his leggings and pulls out his phone, the blue light of it blinding him momentarily as he wakes it up. 

Ryu: get up ya bastard

Ryu: im taking u to breakfast

Ryu: where are u? been knocking at ur door for the last 15 min

Ryu: NOYA GET YOUR ASS UP I AM DEAD SERIOUS

Nishinoya grins and presses the call button. Tanaka answers just before the first ring lets up. 

“Where the hell are you?” Tanaka says, voice still gritty with sleep. 

“At the boathouse.” 

“Oh, shit. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Figures. Think you can haul ass over here? A few of the guys are waiting at this new cafe nearby. I am in a waffle-y mood.” 

“Sure,” Nishinoya says with a chuckle. At the same time, he hears a loud, metallic crash behind him. He sits up and sees Asahi adjusting the doors so they’ll stay open for him. 

“Woah, what’s that?” Tanaka says.

“I think the door was stuck at the boathouse? Asahi fixed it though.” Nishinoya puts his hand to the receiver and raises his voice. “Thanks!” 

Asahi looks up and waves, adjusting a bag on his shoulder and walking around the boathouse towards the parking lot. 

“Oh yeah,” Tanaka rambles, “that thing’s been a little wonky since you – wait. Is Hottie-san there?”

Nishinoya freezes, then feels his brows start to furrow as fresh anger-slash-panic rises in his chest. “I am going to  _ kill  _ –” 

“Maybe you should invite him, anyways I’ll text you the address, love you, bye!” Tanaka says this all in a rushed jumble and Nishinoya can barely get another word in before the line goes dead. Bastard. 

But. 

Maybe Tanaka is onto something. 

“Hey!” Nishinoya shouts. He gets up and runs towards the place where Asahi disappeared, barefooted over the asphalt in the lost. Nishinoya is able to catch Asahi just exiting the gate for the parking lot. 

“Nishinoya?” Asahi says. 

“That was – sorry, I can’t breathe – it was Tanaka,” Nishinoya says, doubled over from running to get him and waving around the phone in his hands. “The guys are getting breakfast. If you wanna join?” 

“Sure,” Asahi replies. “I’ll wait for you right here then?” 

Nishinoya cocks his head at first, puzzled at why they need to wait. Asahi looks similarly confused, until Nishinoya realizes: his boat is still in the water. 

“Oh! Yeah, give me a few minutes.” 

Asahi sputters out a laugh as Nishinoya runs in the opposite direction to grab his gear. As he throws his joggers back on, hauls his scull out of the water, and messily re-arranges the equipment back in the boathouse, he smiles at the prospect of walking with Asahi to the breakfast spot. Maybe they’ll talk more about how Asahi got into rowing, or what his career goals are. Or they can plan out a training regimen for the next few regattas in the fall. Maybe they can talk about how the Olympics will  _ finally _ be in Japan, and maybe they can go watch it together. Or even try to be in it. Who even knows? 

Either way, Nishinoya definitely doesn’t want to miss it.   
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, leave a comment or come say hi on Twitter: [@_froochies (sfw)](https://twitter.com/_froochies)
> 
> Want to read more? Head on over to my [works page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_dontworry/works).


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